


Everything Has To End

by tasty_kate



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who & Related Fandoms
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Character Death, Heavy Angst, Murder, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-15
Updated: 2012-02-15
Packaged: 2018-01-05 02:56:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 765
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1088780
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tasty_kate/pseuds/tasty_kate
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"That teeth-aching grating noise makes its announced appearance in Upper Leadworth. Amy is outside before you could say 'Fish fingers and custard.' The hope and happiness on her face is nearly pathetic. It fills him with twisted joy."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Everything Has To End

**Author's Note:**

> Previously posted on LiveJournal and Teaspoon and an Open Mind. Please pay mind to the tags before reading this story.

He stands by the time rotor, head down, concentrating. He knows what point he’s come to. Everyone comes, everyone goes, but it’s always his choice. They always leave with a lasting mark of him. Another version of him, a broken heart, or even the complete opposite: no memories whatsoever. But that’s how he prefers it. Leaving such a profound effect on these humans that they cannot live another day without a thought of him.

Amy could be considered in this category. After all, he has royally fucked up with her childhood and her daughter and there’s a good chance that she’ll be reminded of him every day. But it’s not enough. Not this time. He needs something more.

Resolved, he flips the handle and the TARDIS goes roaring through the vortex. It almost feels like this journey has more turbulence, as if the TARDIS knew what was happening. The old girl always did like her.

That teeth-aching grating noise makes its announced appearance in Upper Leadworth. Amy it outside before you could say “Fish fingers and custard.” The hope and happiness on her face is nearly pathetic. It fills him with twisted joy.

She skips the customary cold shoulder and goes straight for the hug. He pulls her in tight, filling his senses with all of her. His fingers stroke a small part of her hair. Yes, this has to happen.

Amy asks the expected questions: why he’s there, where he’s taking her. She informs him that Rory is still at work and will be disappointed that he missed the Doctor. Even better.

The pair nearly skips into the TARDIS and Amy walks around the time rotor, mirroring him like a dance. She has a playful smile on her face, anticipating the next moment before it comes. Her energy is buzzing, so very alive. What he misses in his own euphoria of being reunited and planning of what is to come is Amy’s falter in her smile. She looks at him for a second, sympathy creasing her features before she rights herself again.

When the switch is flipped, they both grab on for dear life, laughing and bumping into one another, just like old times. He lingers for a moment too long, his shoulder against hers. She doesn’t move and instead smiles back up at him.

The movement of the TARDIS stops. They stand up straight and Amy looks back at him, her smile gone. She knows.

His bright affect is replaced with a flat one; no emotion whatsoever. Amy discloses that she knew this moment was coming. She seems resolved. He doesn’t even have to move before she starts walking towards the doors. He stalks slowly behind her.

The doors open to the starry sky. Jupiter can be seen way off in the distance. It’s the same place he took her the first time she stepped onto the TARDIS. How appropriate that this is where it should happen.

She almost looks back at him but decides against it. With one easy push, she’s floating outside of the TARDIS, close to breaking through the extended air bubble. She feels something catch her ankle and she looks down. The Doctor is holding on to her, his face unreadable. Her chest hurts with her throbbing heart. She’s suddenly aware of how alive she feels. The blood coursing through her veins; her eyes taking in the sight of her best friend, so in desperate need of love; the sound of the soft moan of the TARDIS engine from inside. No words. Nothing needs to be said.

And he lets her go. She breaks the seal of the air bubble and suddenly and violently she can’t breathe. She immediately begins to cry, clawing her hands at her throat, mouth open, desperate for air. Her body thrashes about. Amy’s brain screams out a plea of help for something, anyone, to help her. For the Doctor to change his mind and to pull her in. Anything to stop this pain, this horrific fear blazing inside her. She never got to say goodbye to Rory. When was the last time she told him she loved him? And River, she never said goodbye. So many regrets. She’s still so young.

Her mind goes blank and her body floats away, peaceful and still, the last of her tears, still falling from her face.

The Doctor closes the door and mechanically pilots the TARDIS back to Leadworth for the last time. By the time he leaves, Rory is curled up on the ground in the garden, hugging himself with gut-wrenching sobs, cursing the Doctor’s name.


End file.
